Tiger, Burning Bright
by YFate
Summary: Her spirit burns too bright for even the Dragon to snuff out. Now, what awaits her on this strange moon she has forsaken her own kind to save? A TrudyXOC "after" fic.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, etc., of Avatar. This story is for entertainment purposes only, and not for profit.

**Tiger, Burning Bright**

_A/N: I literally ran from the movie theater to pound this fanfic out. I couldn't leave Trudy Chacon hanging like that. I struggled with the title for the last few days, as it's unimaginatively unoriginal, but it fit so well, I finally gave up the goat and kept it. =) _

**Chapter One**

A small form broke away from the brilliant explosion of the dying metal flyer as it fell in a sea of orange flames and dark smoke. Urging his ikran on, Tse'yan ducked flaming debris as Suthor reeled to avoid the spattering gunfire of the Colonel's Dragon Ship, as the Toruk Makto had called it. The name meant little to Tse'yan, but the heavy guns mounted on the Colonel's metal beast were deadly. He had watched them rake through the delicate wings of too many ikran, sending both rider and mount plummeting to their deaths hundreds of feet below. The People, too, could not withstand the power of those spitting bullets. Unlike the humans' hand-weapons, these could pierce the hard bone of a Na'vi, killing him instantly.

But Tse'yan was not the Colonel's target, and the gunfire turned away to focus on the Toruk Makto, Jake Sully. Pulling Suthor sharply to the right, Tse'yan sped after the falling body that trailed a smoldering line across the sky. Suthor didn't like the smell of death and scorched meat, and instinctively tried to veer away. Tse'yan overrode the ikran's will with his own, forcing it to obey him and dive closer. Leaning dangerously over the ikran's side, he dropped his bow so that he could grab and jerk the child to him with a desperate swipe at its strange leggings. The body fell hard against him, the force almost unseating him. Tse'yan grunted, and locked powerful thighs around his ikran, who screeched in alarm, spying another of the humming, metal flyers orienting itself on them.

"Down!" Tse'yan shouted, adding impetus to the mental link between them. He felt the sudden suspension as Suthor's wings folded up, letting his body drop out of the metal flyer's deadly blast. The ikran's wings snapped back open just above the trees, and Suthor screamed defiance even as Tse'yan distractedly ordered him to return to the Tree of Souls. As soon as he dumped the child into the healers' hands, he could rejoin the battle, which was still fighting in earnest behind him.

He silently urged Suthor to go faster, and felt the strain on his own arms and shoulders as the rhythm of the ikran's wing beats increased. It was a shadow-sensation of the strong tsahaylu link between them. Cradling the sky child against him with one arm, he used the other to steer Suthor around the glowing nova of the wrecked Dragon Ship. Tse'yan's lips curled back to expose his sharp canines in a fierce grin as more animals erupted from the forest. Eywa, the great Mother of All, had decided to take a hand in the battle, and the elation that filled him made him shout in gratitude and triumph. Their success was assured now that the Great Mother had decided to intervene.

The hard knot of tension along Tse'yan's shoulders and back relaxed minutely, and he closed his eyes to send a prayer of thanks to the All-Mother as he let Suthor slow a bit. The ikran hissed, his longing to go back and join his winged brothers in the raging battle creeping across the back of Tse'yan's thoughts. But their part in the battle was done, and he could feel the strain on the ikran's tired muscles now that his battle-fever had worn off. He patted the ikran's shoulder in sympathy, but directed him to swoop beneath the rooted arches so he could land just on the outskirts of the giant Tree of Souls.

Tse'yan glanced down at the sky child, and his brow knitted. He didn't like the quick, choking breaths that condensed the clear surface of the strange mask the child had to wear, since it could not breathe the air of Pandora. The strange skin, a light golden-brown in color, looked pasty, and the numerous raw burns seeped a clear fluid with blood as red as his own. Hair as black as his fanned across his arm as the wind of their passage scattered it over his skin, and it was strangely soft, unlike the wiry tresses of the People. There was a crack in the child's mask, and he wondered how much of the atmosphere was leaking inside to poison the sky child's lungs. They were so fragile a species, unable to breathe true air or walk the high paths without their metal bodysuits. He did not understand why they even tried, but the dream walker Jake Sully had explained they were here to rip open the Great Mother for minerals they deemed valuable. A ridiculous reason, to Tse'yan, but then there was little any of the People could understand about the aliens who had come from the sky.

The blue paint smeared across the child's closed eyes was a warrior's marking, and yet odd, for no warrior would cover both eyes like that. The alien-ness of those markings, the abnormality of the clothing, which covered it foot to neck, leaving only the child's shoulders and arms bare, even the two, tangled metal necklaces the child wore struck him as wrong even as he felt anxious about the sky child's worsening condition. For this sky child had joined the People in battle against its own kind, and Eywa grant that the People might return some of that selflessness and be able to heal her.

Suthor chittered, and Tse'yan lifted his head as the ikran banked, his wings sweeping up to gentle their landing. People were running to meet them, and he easily picked out the red-beaded priestess, Mo'at. He called out to her, and a path was cleared for the regal Omaticaya. Disengaging his queue from Suthor, Tse'yan slid down the ikran's side, swinging the child up into both his arms.

"What has happened, warrior?" Mo'at demanded, her pointed ears swiveling back in agitation as the excited mutters arose around them.

"The sky child is wounded," Tse'yan said brusquely, tilting the child so Mo'at could see its face. Reaching out, Mo'at's slender blue fingers trailed over the fissure in the clear mask, and she frowned.

"It is Trudy," Mo'at murmured distractedly as she checked the burns along the child's side. She looked up into Tse'yan's set face. "These wounds are grave. She is dying. Even our air is poisoning her."

"Eywa---" Tse'yan began, and Mo'at gave him a sharp look.

"You know She does not interfere lightly," the priestess warned. "The Mother of All may decide it is best the sky child return to the earth, or She might be unable to help at all, as Trudy is not of the People. She could not help the doctor Grace, even with the People's prayers."

"But we can at least _try_," Tse'yan argued fiercely, for they owed the child that much.

"Yes. We can at least try," Mo'at conceded. The pale blue markings glowed across her proud features, betraying the emotion her cool voice hid so well. Turning with a sharp gesture, she ordered, "Come, Wentacaleyah warrior."

Tse'yan followed the Omaticaya shaman as a path was cleared for them by the Na'vi, their curiosity and concern showing in agitated murmurs that rose in their wake. The great tree spread its shadowed canopy around them as they approached the mossy verge of the Tree of Souls. The white filaments sparkled with a growing radiance as he gently laid the child---or woman, rather---on the bank. For all that she was tiny, no taller than a child, she was a fully developed, if not overly-developed, female.

The moss glowed beneath her sprawled body, and tiny filaments were already reaching out to touch her skin. They could not penetrate her thick clothing, and Tse'yan quickly divested her of the constricting garments, using his knife to tear the last of the rags away as the feathery tendrils grew up over her in a delicate white net. He brushed a bit of her hair back from her cheek just as the filaments reached her shoulder. She gave the first reaction he had seen from her---a quick, startled gasp---as the filaments touched the back of her neck, burying themselves beneath her skin. Her body stiffened, almost trying to jerk away, and then went limp as her head lolled. He snatched his hand back, surprised when the filaments continued to grow over her, trapping her completely from head to toe within a thick cocoon of pulsing white radiance.

"Eywa has claimed her," Mo'at reverently pronounced.

"Will she live?" Tse'yan asked tersely, his voice low.

"I do not know," Mo'at replied honestly. "Her fate rests in Eywa's hands. I have never seen the web cover one of the Sky People so completely, but then, there is no avatar for Trudy's consciousness to pass on to."

Tse'yan frowned. He had not seen the transference himself, but had been told of the two that had taken place, one successfully, one not. But then, Dr. Grace had been too weak for even Eywa to guide her soul into the avatar body. It was still hard to comprehend how the Sky People could construct bodies that were like, and yet unlike, the Na'vi, and then move their awareness from one body to the other. "Dreamwalker" was one of the names---one of the more polite ones, actually---for the strange aliens who had invaded their world.

Tse'yan's tail lashed in helpless aggravation. There was nothing more he could do to help. As Mo'at said, the woman's fate rested in Eywa's hands. The priestess suddenly laid a gentle hand on his arm, and he reflexively tensed beneath the light touch. She smiled at him, her amber eyes slitting a little as her ears flicked twice in amusement. "There is something you can do, restless warrior. Add your prayers to mine, and maybe Eywa will lend us Her ear."

He nodded once, in brusque thanks, and then settled himself beside the regal priestess. Bowing his head, he prayed.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, etc., of Avatar. This story is for entertainment purposes only, and not for profit.

**Tiger, Burning Bright**

_A/N: Thank you for all the reviews. Boy, did they take me by surprise and had me up last night editing this chapter out. One note: The Wentacaleyah clan is just as OC as Tse'yan, and comes from the black abyss between my ears I call a brain. Many evil things exist there, just waiting to get out. O_o _

**Chapter Two**

She heard voices in the distance, voices that stayed just out of reach when she tried to follow them. They murmured and sang and sometimes laughed, and she wandered across a white landscape of glowing colors that came and went in strange webs of stunning intricacy. It was like being caught in a prism rainbow in the center of a vast snowflake that slowly dissolved into a blinding white brilliance that pulsed and vibrated around her, as if it had a life of its own. New images then formed, feathering across her mind with strange pictures and memories that were not her own.

At first, she ran and hid from them, scared to lose her _self_ within that vast chorus of otherness, but eventually she grew tired, and her protests weakened as a soothing Presence warmed and reassured her it meant no harm. She shivered---it was so hard to let go of her suspicions, so hard to trust anything or anyone---but the voice was persistent, patient and sure. Eventually, she let down the walls she had built so painstakingly around herself, and then she was filled with such light and brilliance she almost burst with it. Her mouth opened, though no sound emerged, but she could feel her soul singing, joining in that chorus as the Presence embraced her like one lost…

She breathed then, choking on air that threatened to kill her, but the Presence was there, reassuring and calming her, and she let that fear go, too. Her lungs drew in a deeper breath, and her heart paused for a long moment, and then beat once more as she took deeper and deeper breaths. She felt light-headed, her consciousness floating somewhere above in a sea of gleaming brilliance, and then she was enfolded within her own mind once more and she _knew_. Knew things she had not known before, could not have known, and she laughed and cried in recognition and regret that it had taken her so damn long to recognize that warmth and presence for what it was.

"Eywa," she breathed, and the Presence grew around her, holding her like a tiny child, soothing her fears away and letting her release the pent-up tensions of a raw heart and lonely, wounded spirit. Embraced her for who she was, both the good and bad, without reservation or judgment. She sobbed then, and let the Presence comfort her as she relived the pain of Brady's death, the declaration of love left unfulfilled between them. He had asked her to marry him, she'd agreed, and they had made tender love in the night before he'd left on the mission that killed him. The senselessness of his death, which could have been prevented if his superior officer hadn't been such an incompetent ass, had cracked her blind loyalty to the Marines she'd pledged herself to. When her enlistment was up, she had not renewed her contract, and took employment with RDA to ferry scientists to and from the base established on the moon Pandora. It kept her flying, which was all she had ever wanted, although they had ended up betraying her, too. Long before she'd ever betrayed them…

She remembered the Samson exploding, remembered yanking on her face mask as she fumbled open the release that would throw her free of the burning wreck. She hadn't entirely escaped---she'd felt the flames eat up her legs and arms, catch in her hair. She'd screamed just as something cracked against her head, and she knew no more until the darkness was pierced by brilliant white light.

The Presence supplied other images, images of a bloody battle finally won, of her being caught and carried to her mossy bed by one of the Banshee-riders. His features were indistinct---he was the same tall, slender, toughly-muscled form as all the Na'vi with the long black braid down his back, though two shorter ones bound up the left side. She saw the celebration, saw the departure of the human ships, saw strange faces blurring in front of her. Norm Spellman, Dr. Max Patel, a few others---they stayed behind when the great ships left, carrying the rest of the humans away. She saw Jake Sully die, shrouded in the web-like tendrils of Eywa's embrace, his eyes reopening in the avatar body that had become his in truth as his mate, Neytiri, embraced him. The tenderness between them sent a stab to her heart, and she wept as the joy-filled voices of the Na'vi rose around them in celebration and welcome.

She laughed then, joining their joy, and became one with it. One with _them_. And then the brilliance flared all around her, so bright she could not see for the longest time, so lost within it, and then she was blinking dry eyes open, wincing as a cool breeze touched her exposed skin.

"Troo-dee?"

The voice was strange, and yet oddly familiar. He said her name all wrong, pronouncing it in that slurred way the Na'vi did before she corrected them. She tried to speak, but nothing came out. Her throat felt so dry, and she coughed weakly, her fingers twitching but refusing to obey her. Painful tingles stung along her arms and legs as sensation returned to numbed extremities, and she clamped her lips on the whimper that threatened to escape. It came out as a hiss, and then she gasped, feeling air sting through her without the strange chemical mix she had always associated with exopacks. But she wasn't wearing one, and that thought wrenched her awake as her hand flew up to touch her face in fear. She choked, but the air that came into her lungs didn't burn her, and she tried to knuckle the sleep that clotted her lashes closed as long fingers covered hers, gently drawing her hand away with a casual strength.

"Peace, little one," a huskily feminine voice told her, and Trudy ceased struggling as a wet cloth passed over her face, gently wiping away the dried gunk. She blinked, the blurred colors slowly forming into a face. A blue face, with leonine features and an unwavering, amber stare. Na'vi, one of the people of Pandora, though not one she recognized. It was a strong face, the exotic features of a flat nose and tufted, pointed ears mixing with the high cheekbones and strong jaw that made the feline face more humanoid. He wore two rings in each of his ears, which were pricked forward in interest, the bioluminescent markings across his cheeks adding an aqua freckling to his cyan-colored skin. Two short braids hung over his left temple and cheek, the rest in tighter, wiry braids that fell across his corded back and shoulders.

"Who are you?" she tried to ask, but it came out as a dry cough. Her tongue felt thick, and the need for water had her throat constricting.

"Here, give her this," the husky voice instructed, and Trudy turned her eyes up, to see Mo'at smiling down at her, a cloth in one hand. Her world tilted, as the other Na'vi abruptly lifted her up so she could sit against him. He held a cup to her lips and she drank greedily, her hands coming up to hold the cup when he would take it from her.

"Drink slow," he said, firmly pulling it away, "or you have sick."

She nodded, and he let her have it back. She drew the wonderful ambrosia in carefully counted swallows, her survival training kicking back in. The simple act exhausted her, though, and she gratefully slumped against the Na'vi when she was done. He took the cup from her trembling fingers, and she let her hands fall to her sides with a wry grimace.

"Wha…What the hell happened?" she asked, her voice strangely hoarse to her ears. She felt incredibly itchy, dried out and exhausted, though, surprisingly, not at all hungry. She must look like an ATV Grinder ran over her. But more importantly, "And how the hell am I breathing?"

Which she was, unaided by any mask. Breathing Pandoran air, though it was lethal to humans. Mo'at chuckled, her eyes slitting in a Na'vi sign of amusement as she bared her teeth, exposing the sharp canines.

"And that, little sky-child, is by the blessing of Eywa." The cat-woman made a sign of reverence, and Trudy whispered, "Mother of All…"

Mo'at smiled in true delight. "Ah, then She has claimed you as one of the People, Her own."

"But…" Trudy stared down at her tan skin. She was no different then before, though she had lost a lot of weight. She realized suddenly she was completely, bare-ass naked. Heat rose to her face as she made an abortive gesture, trying to cover herself, but again her weakness betrayed her.

"You have sick? Your face change color." The Na'vi she slumped against raised a concerned hand to cup her cheek, turning her head so he could look. A giant blue hand with only four digits that were twice the size of hers.

"It's nothing," she demurred, the heat rising as she stared up into his curious yellow eyes. Eyes that dominated his face, as they did every Na'vi, but were a darker amber than the light gold she was used to seeing. He looked doubtful, mistrusting her word, and she sighed for the cultural differences that always had to be explained. "I'm blushing. It happens when a human gets embarrassed or is ashamed."

"You have shame? Why?" he demanded, and Trudy's patience, always short, came to an end.

"Because I'm naked, idiot!" she snapped, and his ears flattened along both sides of his head as his eyes narrowed.

Mo'at noted with wry amusement, repeating it in both languages so that they could both understand, "Humans are more inhibited about showing their bodies than the People, Tse'yan."

"Why? You are small, yes, but not ugly," the Na'vi---Tsay Yann?---demanded.

"Gee, thanks," Trudy grumbled. Tse'yan looked ready to argue, but they were interrupted by the arrival of more people. Or People, actually, as the Na'vi called themselves. Though Trudy was startled when Jake plucked her up off her butt and hugged her hard, his glad shout as he spun her around leaving her dizzy and faintly nauseous.

"Trudy! You're alive! Oh my god, it's good to see you!"

"Watch it there, jarhead! You don't know your own strength," she gasped as he swung her up a good four feet off the ground. Her eyes danced, and she grinned down at him, warmed by the boyish exuberance of his greeting. "It's good to see you, too, you big lug."

"Careful, Jake, she still needs to recover her strength," Mo'at cautioned as Jake's mate, the beautiful Neytiri, smiled over his shoulder. Jake gently set her back down on her feet, and Trudy would have wobbled right back on her ass if Tse'yan hadn't quickly caught her by the shoulders. She grimaced at the need for his support, frustrated by her weakness, but she was distracted as more peopleapproached_**.**_

"Trudy!" Two short figures bounded up the mossy verge, and Norm would have hugged her, but stopped, his face going red as he saw her nudity. Dr. Max Patel's eyes widened, his breath condensing behind the air mask he wore before they both carefully averted their gaze. Dr. Patel shrugged out of his lab coat, and Trudy gratefully took it. She shrugged it on, wrapping the coat around her despite Tse'yan's fumbling help. She felt more herself now that she was somewhat covered, and Norm gave her a quick half-hug as Dr. Patel pumped her hand in greeting, though his excitement was for her lack of an air mask.

"But how is this possible? How are you breathing the atmosphere?" The keen interest in his eyes---the one a scientist gives a particular specimen he can't wait to dissect---made Trudy inch away from him, though he was harmless enough.

She shrugged. "I don't know." She looked up at Mo'at, who only smiled serenely.

"It is Eywa's gift to you, woman-child of the sky."

"Looks like Eywa's modified your body, soldier, so you can survive here," Jake said with a disarming, toothy grin.

"Yours, too, Sully," Trudy retorted, eying the nearly ten foot body that somehow fit the former Marine better than his human one had, paralyzed as it was.

"I'd like to do a full bio-scan." Dr. Patel looked eager to start right now, and Norm laughed at Trudy's alarmed expression.

"You'll have to wait for her to clean herself up, doctor," the blond man said, teasing her, "You positively reek, Chacon. How many weeks has it been since you took a shower?"

"Weeks?" Trudy sputtered, and Mo'at laid a light hand on her shoulder.

"Your injuries were grave, Trudy Chacon. It took time, even for the Great Mother, to heal you of them."

Still, _weeks_ had passed since her Samson had been shot down? But what of the battle, the humans, the Colonel---the memories came to her, then, of the images Eywa had shared with her, of the battle and the humans rounded up and sent home in ignoble defeat. She swayed with the sudden flood of information, and Tse'yan abruptly picked her up.

"We go wash," he said firmly, cradling her to his chest like a child. She blinked over his shoulder, but he was already striding quickly away. She looked up at him, wondering if she should protest her abrupt abduction but he wasn't even looking at her, but up at the sky. His voice rose in an undulating cry, and Trudy had to cover her face with her arms as the dust-ridden wind rose around them.

"Hey!" she protested, but Tse'yan ignored her to greet his Banshee, who chattered back at him. Shifting her over to one arm, her weight didn't seem to bother the Na'vi as he hooked his queue into the Banshee's trailing appendage and leapt to its back. Put out by his manhandling, Trudy demanded where they were going, and he only grinned down at her.

"To wash," he said in his stilted English, and then her stomach rose up in her throat as the Banshee abruptly took off. She gasped, hating the helpless feeling of flying without being in control of a beast that swooped and dove so recklessly close to the trees. But the wind whipping her hair into her eyes felt so clean, the motions so free, that she wiggled around so she could look up and around her. Tse'yan's hard arm was more secure than being belted inside her cockpit, and the aerial view of Pandora was so breathtakingly beautiful she let out a whoop as the Banshee arched up and over a giant tree branch, diving straight down in a way that left her laughing with delight as Tse'yan's tall body easily swayed with the Banshee's movements.

Now, _this_ was flying!


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, etc., of Avatar. This story is for entertainment purposes only, and not for profit.

**Tiger, Burning Bright**

_A/N: A rather short chapter, for having been so long. More a chance to get my hand back in the fandom. =) Thank you for the reviews, I really appreciate them! (Fate) _

**Chapter Three**

"Thanks, but I got this."

Skeptical, Tse'yan watched as the little female lurched to the arching tree root that dipped below the surface of the half-hidden pool. It would provide a seat in water shallow for him but too deep for her to stand up in.He doubted her ability to stand for long, however. She'd just spurned his assistance, and he wondered which would win: her stubborn pride or her very real exhaustion.

Sagging against the moss-covered root, she flipped a glare back over her shoulder as if she had read his thoughts. She said a spatter of words that made no sense to him, with as little understanding as he had of her language, although the insistent gesture of her circling finger was fairly obvious.

Sighing heavily for the enigmatic inhibitions of aliens, Tse'yan turned around. His ears twitched as he heard the whisper of cloth as she discarded her white garment, followed by a grunt as the root creaked. She was certainly a noisy creature. The splash as she entered the water and her hiss at the first touch of it were loud enough to draw Suthor's chittering interest. Tse'yan grinned as the ikran's knobby head popped out of the lush foliage of the tree's upper branches, and he clicked his tongue against his teeth to reassure him.

Suthor tilted his head, turning his left side, his better side, to examine the situation for himself. The twin eyes blinked. Unable to resist, Tse'yan risked a glance over his shoulder. The sky-woman wasn't even paying attention to them, but wincing as she pulled the strange tie from her tangled hair. The water lapped around her shoulders, and her skin looked pale as the dark hair spilled down her back to curl under the agitated water.

Uncertain if she knew the astringent properties of honey-flower nectar, Tse'yan deliberately reached out with a long arm and tipped one of the white, cupped flowers that grew along its draping vine so that the thick liquid spilled out. She instinctively ducked as the first drops hit her skin, nearly losing her precarious seat. She scowled up at him, again speaking too quickly for him to follow, though her annoyance was clear. Funny how he could read the emotions so easily on her face. The humans were not so alien when all was said and done, though she had felt so light and fragile in his arms.

"Wash," he ordered, cursing his limited command of the human tongue as he used short gestures to explain. She made a face that had him grin, but cupped her palms to catch the rest of the nectar.

She brought the soap to her nose, took a quick sniff, and shrugged - a gesture that seemed to have lots of meanings, as far as he could fathom. The humans seemed rather fond of it. Some of the Na'vi were even imitating the gesture - those young warriors who so admired the Toruk Makto. Jake Sully still retained a few of his human customs despite the avatar body he now wore. His influence over the younger warriors worried some of the elders, but Tse'yan saw little wrong with it. It was good that the People try and understand these aliens, who could be so like, and yet unlike, the Na'vi.

Which was why he would stay with the Omaticaya when the other warriors of the Wentacaleyah left. He wanted to know more of this small woman and the others of her kind. There was much he could learn, and much he might teach - language being foremost. Though they seemed to be managing quite well without words, for the pointed glare the little female gave him made him bare his teeth in a grin even as he let go of the flower to once again turn his back. Settling himself on the grassy tussock, he patiently waited for her to finish her ablutions.

ooOOOoo

Keeping one eye on the blue Na'vi, Trudy made short work of the goop he'd given her to clean the itchy scurf from her skin and hair. It seemed to work as both shampoo and conditioner, for it helped detangle the knots. She winced at a few of the nastier ones, her fingers combing through the heavy length. Everything felt heavy right now - her arms, her legs, even the water around her. Moving through Pandora's dense atmosphere was hard enough when she wasn't so tired she wanted to fall head-first into the nearest berth and sleep for a good week.

Gah - time to get herself up and out. Pinching the bridge of her nose, Trudy forced her sluggish brain to focus on the next task - which was how to get her ass out of the water using the damn root that had provided a good seat as it dipped below the surface but was not the easiest way to climb back out. Normally, she would easily go hand-over-hand until she could use the grassy bank to pull herself up, but her arms were all but shaking with fatigue. So she inched herself along like a damn worm, getting a few scrapes in interesting places for her pains, and thanked God nobody was there to see her rather ignoble tumble to the grass.

"Fuck me," she muttered, impatient with just how damn tired she was. Shouldn't she be a little more energized after being comatose for the last few weeks? Crap, this was ridiculous.

"You have sick?"

God, not that again.

"Nope," she said, trying not to sound as irritated as she felt. She wasn't irritated with _him_, after all, but with herself. Rolling over, she dragged Dr. Patel's lab coat over her nakedness and impatiently pushed the sopping bangs out of her eyes as she all but slumped against the tree bole behind her. Or was it another of those giant roots? She couldn't tell; she hardly ever could on this biological paradise. Everything grew bigger on this damn moon.

Speaking of which - she cracked an eye open. The big, blue ape was crouched in front of her, his amber eyes bright with concern. He raised a big, blue hand and her own automatically came up to block it. He tensed up - a curious rippling along his densely muscled arm and shoulder as the contours were thrown into sharp relief - and silently stared at her, as if weighing her reaction.

"No hurt," he said quietly.

Dropping her hand, Trudy grimaced. "Sorry, it's reflex."

He nodded, as if he understood. She wondered if he really did, or was just humoring her. She shrugged, discomfited by his unflinching stare. That was damn eerie. Didn't he ever blink?

She shifted uncomfortably, and offered a lame half-smile. "Look, Na'vi, my nerves are all shot to hell. I - "

"Tse'yan," he abruptly said. "Not Na'vi. _Tse'yan."_

"Tse'yan, right, okay, gotcha." Trudy would have rolled her eyes, but his look was so intent she paused.

"Okay is yes, good, agree."

What was this, a language lesson? Trudy sighed. Hell of a place for one. "Yes, you're right. Right is okay, yes, good, agree."

"Gotcha," he said. She didn't know if it was a question or understanding, so assumed the former.

"It's all the same. Yes, good, okay, agree, gotcha - " she paused, thinking of the other meanings and subtleties that she couldn't even begin to explain about English. Damn, she was tired, and now her head felt stuffed full of cotton.

"You are Troo-dee."

"Tru-dy," she emphasized, and he thoughtfully repeated it as she yawned. Too tired for more words, she just nodded, closing her eyes as leaned back against the tree.

"Trudy," he finally said.

"Mmmhmm?" Wow, even this tree was starting to get comfy. If she could just get a few minutes…

"I help," he explained quietly, and then her world went all topsy-turvy as he abruptly scooped her up.

ooOOOoo

She protested his help, just as he'd expected. Especially when he swept a hand through her hair, squeezing out the water. Perching her on an upper bend of the root, he quickly braided it into a neat queue, threading the end with a beaded thong. She glanced at the three beads, the white, blue and green, and he said, "My clan. The Wentacaleyah."

She tried the word out, and he corrected her pronunciation. He pointed up at the trees, where the wind swayed through the feathering leaves. "Wind," he blew his breath to show his meaning, "up in leaves." He wiggled his fingers, and she quickly caught on.

"Wentacaleyah. The Wind High in the Leaves Clan."

He nodded, and smiled down at her. She was looking up at the leaves, her head tilted back as she murmured softly, her eyes closing as sleep finally took her, "Wentacaleyah..."


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, etc., of Avatar. This story is for entertainment purposes only, and not for profit.

**Tiger, Burning Bright**

_A/N: This is rather rough, as I wanted to hurry and post, and more general than I first intended when I sat down to write. Contrary characters. Trudy is a lot of fun, though, and damn stubborn. I had to grudgingly give in after the next five attempts to flesh out the chapter ended in several head-sized dents into my desk. (Fate)_

**Chapter Four**

Living in a land of blue giants could drive a human crazy. Everything was made for their size, from chairs to spoons to sleeping hammocks. She could have retreated to the human-sized comforts of the relocated mobile link tank each night, like Norm and Dr. Patel, but Trudy had always been an all-or-nothing kind of gal. If she wanted to learn about the Na'vi, _really_ learn, than she had to immerse herself in their culture.

Having thrown her lot in with them so recklessly, she was now literally stuck with her decision. She'd always championed the underdog, and had hated how the corporation was treating the Pandoran natives. Human history was full of crap like that, and whole cultures had been needlessly destroyed because of the ruthless greed of a few bad apples. She'd be damned if she let that happen here, on this beautiful moon with these beautiful, simple people.

Not that they were that simple. Na'vi society was complex, built on their enduring faith and pragmatic acceptance of the circle of life. Protected and nurtured by their Eywa, an intelligent entity somehow tied to the whole planet, they lived a hard life without the benefits of modern technology. Something they had little use for, and something which she, surprising, hardly found herself missing.

She'd grown up in the ugly mining camps that dotted the asteroids belts. Her mother had died before she could remember, and her father had flown cargo between various camps when he wasn't drinking his meager pay away in some bar. She'd gone into the Marines as soon as she could, and then met and lost Brady, her first love and fellow Marine. Disillusioned, she'd quit and joined RDA, hoping for the chance to fly skies never seen before. And she'd had that wish granted, landing here on Pandora. And the rest was history, as it were.

There was an interconnection between the Na'vi she almost envied. She'd never known that kind of closeness and acceptance. They welcomed her and the other humans as if they had always been a part of this world. Oh, there were the exceptions - especially when other clans started trickling in to meet the famous Toruk Makto, Jake Sully, and gawk at the "aliens." She hated being stared at like that, like some exotic bird, though Norm and Dr. Patel didn't seem to mind.

Norm was in his element, chattering away with the visitors and learning all he could. He'd even started teaching the kids again in Dr. Augustine's school. Dr. Patel was too much of a scientist to let anything bother him. Rather, he was delighted when the visitors brought specimens for him as word got out that he was on the look-out. He had a lifetime's worth of work ahead of him, and his only regret was that he might not be able to show off his incredible research to his fellow colleagues.

Both men were carving out a niche for themselves on this new world, and Trudy was determined to do the same. She didn't know anything, though, but flying and soldiering. That was okay, though. The Na'vi were pretty open-minded, as it was taken for granted each individual was suited to the task he or she was best at, whether it be warrior, hunter, gatherer or craftsman - which were rather simplistic human definitions for what amounted to a unique mastery of very specialized fields.

They let her use a child's bow and arrow, a weapon better suited to her size, and taught her to use a spear and other things. Tse'yan was a patient teacher, and had become her companion by default. She knew he was not of Neytiri's people, the Omaticaya clan, but when they moved to their new Hometree, he followed with no one arguing about it.

Tse'yan was an enigma to her. He seemed to have appointed himself her guide, for he spent as much time with her as he could, patiently teaching her the ways of a Na'vi scout and even taking her up with him on his Banshee - or ikran, as the People called the strange, shrieking bird-lizards. He knew how she missed flying, and it was great he was so willing to let her ride with him, but it wasn't the same as having her own Samson. He indulged her whims, teaching her the techniques of fighting and hunting, but never let her go on anything dangerous, afraid, perhaps, of how weak she must seem to him. Being a good three and a half feet shorter than anyone else around her certainly had its drawbacks, as the Na'vi were always absently patting her on the head and telling her what a good job she had done.

Trudy scowled. The fact was, she wasn't a child, although they treated her like one. Oh, not all the time - she had learned enough of their language by now to converse easily with any of them, and they treated her with grave respect when all they were doing was talking or doing something non-dangerous, like when she tried to learn to weave the beautiful cloth the Omaticaya were so famous for. She'd done a terrible job - he hadn't the patience for it, but that was okay, as they had all shared a good laugh over the result. She was better at other things, like gutting the kills the hunters brought in, drying the skin and braiding the fibrous, leather-like roots of the fan-tree, as she called it, into the numerous uses it could be put to.

But all of that was make-work, and she itched for some real action to get her blood boiling. She craved adventure, something real to do. Something that would make her useful, rather than just some oddity to be indulged. She wasn't a peaceful person by nature, and she chaffed at the restrictions put on her just because she was smaller than they.

Not that she didn't force herself to become just as strong as they. She worked her body hard, sculpting and strengthening her muscles so that she could move as easily through the tangled jungles of Pandora as any of the blue-skinned Na'vi. She could shimmy up a vine as fast as any of them, and could manage to keep pace with the longer-legged warriors for a good five miles before she began to falter, as she had to run three steps to their one.

She was in the best shape of her life, and her arms had never looked this good. She flexed a muscle, grinning at the hard definition along her tanned bicep. Her skin had darkened to a rich golden brown under the Alpha Centauri sun, and she had discarded her standard shipsuit for the less cumbersome apparel worn by the Na'vi, though she would never be able to just wear a set of beads and a knotted bikini like the other women. She'd bobble around too much, and she couldn't let go of _all_ her human inhibitions, as Jake so easily could. But then, he was now one of them, his big, blue body mixing easily with the others so that he didn't stand out so much like a sore thumb.

Still, the brief wrap she wore around her breasts and hips was more practical for the steamy jungles of Na'vi than her sturdy shipsuits. She had made a pair of sandals, as her feet could not toughen as hard as the Na'vi's, and there were too many poisonous plants hiding beneath the thick undergrowth just ready to stab the unwary. She would be unrecognizable to any of her former coworkers, with her hair grown so long and her gun traded for a short bow and spear. She'd certainly gone "native" in a way that would have horrified her old drill sergeant.

But not native enough to be accepted as an equal by the Na'vi. They were too conscious of her slighter strength, especially Tse'yan. He did all he could to pretend as if he were not going out of his way to shield her from danger, but she wasn't an idiot. She knew damn well what he was doing. She thought it came from a sense of responsibility, as their friendship had grown over the past months as they learned more about each other and what made them tick.

He was a strong, proud warrior, certain of his strength and his place in the world. She often wished she had just a little of that same certainty and calm acceptance. He could be a little rigid at times, a bit black and white in his thinking, but he was willing to listen, if not always agree, when she argued a point. He was as quick to anger as he was to laugh, but that seemed the norm with most Na'vi. He was a little arrogant and stubborn, but so was she, so that didn't bother her as much as his over-protectiveness. Just because he could easily win a wrestling match without breaking a sweat didn't mean she was less than he. If anything, the ways she adapted to survive in this harsh environment and keep up with the big blue ape just showed how just how _better_ she was.

She smirked, knowing he would have argued that point - saying humans were too restless, desiring change over tradition just for the sake of it. He had a point, but she'd never admit that. Without change, one would stagnate. Not that the Na'vi spurned change, they just took a longer view of the world than her species typically did.

But sometimes you just had to push the bar, and go with your gut. Or nothing would _ever_ change, and she wasn't willing to sit around waiting for the Na'vi to accept her on their terms in their own good time. And while Tse'yan would have been horrified by the stunt she was about to pull - and the very real danger it would put her in - she wasn't going to waste time trying to argue him into agreeing.

Every child of the Na'vi who trained to become a warrior - at least of the Omaticaya and Wentacaleyah clans - was given a form of ritual testing to prove they were worthy of being accepted as an adult. It involved a lot of paint and nonsense that basically came down to a child going out to claim his own Banshee, a bond that was created with the ikran for life, unless one of them died. And not a few did in the attempt, for the ikran didn't come along willingly. In fact, the one you knew was your perfect partner was the one trying its hardest to kill your ass before you locked ganglia with it, establishing the mental link known to the People as Tsahaylu, which made the two as one.

Under normal circumstances, there was no chance a human could try and tame a wild Banshee, unless, perhaps, they caught one young and raised it from a hatchling. But Trudy didn't have the time for that, and she wasn't one to wait around for opportunity to come knocking. And she had the strange body modifications Eywa had given her to help let her breathe the poisonous air of Pandora, as well as better adapt to the harsh new environment. Not only had her lungs been adapted to the moon's air, and her insides twisted around somehow to accept the caustic make-up of Pandora's food, but she had a sort of patch at the back of her head, just above her neck, where Eywa's fibrous webbing had rooted right inside her brain. Those holes in her head - as Dr. Patel had so jokingly put it - had stayed, though they were so small she couldn't even feel them but as a slightly rougher patch along the base of her scalp. She had a theory about those holes, and had gone into one of the People's sacred places, the Tree of Song, to test it.

And crazily enough, it had worked. Brushing one of the shimmering white tendrils that hung down from the beautiful tree, she had felt feathery fibers tickling along her neck, slithering up and somehow under her skin. Suddenly her world had been turned into one giant song that went on and on as that _Presence_ had welcomed her as it had before. She dwelt in, and with, Eywa for a long time - the memory of that oneness could still bring tears to her eyes, and she smiled softly at the memory.

She had awakened hours later, face down on the ground and aching, as if she had lain there a long time. The day had passed into night, and a worried Tse'yan and Jake had come looking for her, a thoughtful Neytiri in tow. Trudy had been wary of the Na'vi woman, who had searched her eyes for a long time. Neytiri would one day step into her mother's shoes, and become shaman to the Omatacaya. But Neytiri kept her suspicions to herself, and Trudy had been grateful, for she didn't want anyone - especially Tse'yan - to guess what she was about to do.

Adjusting her goggles, which she had swiped from Stores, she was careful of the white line she'd smeared across her forehead in a rather foolish nod to the Na'vi ritual of decorating the young hopefuls for this important rite of passage. The white V dipped between her brows and itched like crazy. She grinned, excitement filling her as she carefully set her weapons aside and wrapped her long braid around her head, pinning it in place. She touched the rough patch at the base of her skull, more to reassure herself it was still there, and shook her limbs, loosening her muscles. She could do this, she knew it. She was _ready_, more than ready, to fly again. She welcomed the stiff breeze that blew along the Hallelujah Mountains, and hefted herself up into the Banshee's rocky nesting grounds, a knife stuck in her belt her only protection against a species that might see her as dinner.

But she was ready for that, too. For as multiple heads came up, angry screeches rising as wings beat the air, she bared her teeth, snarling like the Tiger she had once painted on her Samson hovercraft. To show fear was to die, and she challenged the Banshees as they tried to scare her with ululating cries and hooked wing-claws. They retreated before her, scrambling away at the last minute until the whole area was empty.

Except - Trudy whirled around, and confronted the sly little bitch who had stealthily crept up behind her. Crest flattening to its head in anger, the Banshee screamed, its wicked beak snapping shut only two inches from her face. Smaller than its fellows, its back was covered in brilliant yellow and blue markings, purple veining its way up along its gleaming hide. The antenna-like appendages on either side of its head whipped around like writhing snakes and it hissed viciously, its eyes glowing with rage.

"Ah, yes, baby," Trudy purred as they circled one another in a predatory dance as old as time itself. "Come to Mama, that's it. Come and get me, baby. I'm right here. You _see_ me. You know what I want - "

With a blood-curdling scream, the Banshee sprang.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, etc., of Avatar. This story is for entertainment purposes only, and not for profit.

**Tiger, Burning Bright**

_A/N: Whew! It's been a loooong time, but I finally got the spark to go and finish this little story. Thanks for hanging with me for so long, and I cannot say how much the reviews have meant to me. Take care, and live long and prosper, yadayada…(Fate) _

**Chapter Five**

Tse'yan's head came up as he heard the ikran screaming in the distance. A spiral of erupting flyers exploded above the rocky valley of their home, and Suthor hissed in agitation, instinctively wanting to veer away from whatever had startled them into flight. Tse'yan tightened his control over the ikran, forcing it to go investigate what had disturbed the nesting flock. He waved at the two Omatacaya warriors who rode patrol with him, using hand gestures to signal they follow his lead in a spear-headed pattern.

Suthor growled a protest, but settled down as Tse'yan urged the ikran to go faster. The wind whipped through the Na'vi's coarse hair as he crouched low over his mount, and Suthor answered with strong wing beats that drove them towards the shrieking flyers. They were suddenly among the frantic flock, and Tse'yan instinctively ducked as Suthor snapped angrily back at the few ikran who tried to attack them.

But Tse'yan's yellow eyes were arrowed on the lone ikran who stood trembling on the ground, a small rider hugging its neck, her legs too short to reach the natural ridge that provided a good stirrup at the beast's shoulder. One appendage was somehow connected to the base of the woman's skull, and she was reaching for the other to use as a rein even as he tried to shout in fear and protest. His hoarse warning went unheard, whipped away by the fierce winds that always howled among the sacred, air-riding mountains. Tse'yan watched, heart in his mouth, as the ikran rose up, wings expanding, and abruptly fell over the cliff's edge.

_"Trudy!" _he shouted, shooting after her as horror-filled visions of her plummeting from the wreck of her exploding metal ship twisted through his mind. Suthor screamed in rage and terror as Tse'yan's emotions bled through the mental link between them. The ikran below screamed back in defiance, shooting just out of range as Suthor tried to grab it in his claws.

"Stop it, you dumb - jerk - " Trudy shouted up at him, her dark glare stopping him cold as the ikran bucked beneath her. She looked so tiny on its brilliant back, but she was grinning like one demented. "I got this under control!"

And then yelped as the ikran did a rolling wingover. She was too busy, then, to shout insults at him, and Tse'yan watched with growing awe as she righted herself, her body shifting fluidly with her mount's, becoming one as they danced back up into the sky. He felt the other two warriors draw alongside him, and Niyat grinned as the tiny figure high above them pumped a fist into the air, her loud whoop coming back on the wind as the ikran dove and circled on a wingtip. "Oo-rah!"

She circled back around, doing a double wingover that had Tse'yan's eyes narrowing as Suthor keyahed in excitement, eager to join in the fun as the other two Na'vi decided to do just that. Tse'yan watched in grim anger as the three whirled and dove, Trudy's dainty ikran darting between the other two flyers in intricate maneuvers as they danced and wheeled in the air. The brilliant smile on the sky-woman's face as she impulsively hugged the neck of her ikran did nothing to still the rising anger in the stone-faced Wentacaleyah warrior, and he harshly jerked Suthor around to follow the three riders when they finally dropped towards the green jungles below.

ooOOOoo

"What were you thinking, woman!"

Trudy stiffened against her ikran's side, her stroking fingers slowly turning into a fist. The ikran hissed, glaring at the tall Na'vi, just as ready to attack him as it had her before she'd managed to link minds with it. The wonder of that melding, and the giddy rush of her first flight, were fading as a sullen anger replaced it.

She refused to look at him, trying to calm the agitated Banshee as the two Omaticaya warriors who had just finished congratulating her on her success exchanged significant looks over her head.

"You could have been _killed!" _Tse'yan roared.

That did it. Turning around, Trudy's hands fisted on her hips as her dark eyes flashed. The two warriors discreetly absented themselves, taking their mounts with them as she confronted the slit-eyed Wentacaleyah who towered above her, tail lashing angrily as the bioluminescent spots across his cheeks glowed in barely-held emotion.

"If you happen to notice, I'm still alive," she spat, more than fed up with Tse'yan over-bearing attitude. Her ikran bristled behind her, and she laid a calming hand on its neck.

Tse'yan let his breath out in a long hiss, clearly struggling to contain his fury so that he wouldn't upset the Banshee further. Suthor hovered protectively behind him, though was not reacting to his rider's emotions as her little yellow was.

"Dismiss your ikran, Trudy. We need to talk," Tse'yan ordered, and sent Suthor off with a slap on the shoulder. The Banshee nagged, but went.

Trudy hesitated, uncertain, and Tse'yan sighed huskily. "She will return, sky-woman, whenever you call. The bond is new, but solid. It will only grow stronger with time."

"It'd been helpful to have known that," she muttered, fingers trailing softly over the Banshee's knobby head as it dipped down to hers with a low sound of contentment. "Okay, you can go, girl," she said, and the Banshee chittered at her. Trudy stood back as the oddly kite-like wings fanned out and the Banshee launched itself back into the sky, quickly disappearing amid the thick leaves that surrounded them in heavy green shadows.

Folding her arms, Trudy turned back to face her nemesis. She scowled at his hard expression. "I had to do it, you know."

"Why? Why would you put yourself in such danger? What were you trying to prove, sky-woman?" he demanded, tail lashing from side to side as he deliberately stalked closer, trying to intimidate her. Trudy refused to back down, even when she had to tilt her head back to glare up at him.

"To be accepted! As an equal, not just some pet to be indulged!" Trudy shouted back, all her built-up frustration and resentment rushing out of her at once.

"Some _pet?" _Tse'yan spat, his eyes nearly slitting closed in his anger as his ears flattened to his skull. The luminescent spots glowed across his face like scattered stars.

"I'm tired of being your little pet human, Tse'yan," Trudy growled. "I'm tired of being treated like a child, just because I'm smaller than the rest of you. I'm a grown ass woman, damn it!"

"You think _that_," he waved angrily up toward the hidden mountains, "was the act of a mature adult? You say you want to be treated with respect, Trudy, but respect must be earned - "

"Which I just did, you big, blue ox! In the only way I knew would get it through that big, thick skull of yours. I am now Ikran Makto - "

"Ikran Makto, yes, you have caught your ikran, even somehow bonded with it, by the grace of Eywa, but do you understand what a risk you were taking with your stupid stunt? You could have been hurt, or worse. You are my responsibility - "

"_Your_ responsibility?" Trudy's eyes glittered. "I am an adult, Tse'yan! I'm responsible for my own actions. Not you. _Me_."

"You stupid, stubborn woman," Tse'yan growled, his sharp canines showing in the curl of his lips. "You are all our responsibility, just as we, all of us, are yours. What you do, anything you do, affects not only you, but everything around you. _Everyone_ around you. Think what grief your recklessness would have cost your friends, if your attempt to tame the ikran had failed and you _died_ as a result."

"But I didn't," Trudy said stubbornly, the grip on her forearms tightening until her knuckles stood out in sharp relief. "I didn't die, Tse'yan. I succeeded, and I _flew_. Flew on my own, without being just a stupid passenger along for the ride. Do you understand how much I need that? I _have_ to fly."

Tse'yan was silent for a long time, his piercing yellow eyes searching hers. He finally sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "I'm sorry, little one. I did not understand how much it meant to you."

Swallowing her irritation over the "little one" comment, Trudy was somewhat mollified by his grudging admission. Only Tse'yan could mange to deflate her anger so quickly, and make her feel like an ass while doing so. Shaking her head, she sighed as well, figuring she might as well offer an olive branch in return. "I'm sorry, too. I didn't mean to scare you like that. It was reckless, and foolish, but I _had_ to do it, Tse'yan."

"I understand," he finally said, though there was a mixture of resignation and regret in his voice. "You are a warrior of your people, Trudy Chacon, and I cannot keep you from being what you are, much as it pains me to see you in danger." His long fingers gently touched her upturned cheek. "I worry for you."

Trudy's breath hitched. The look in his amber eyes made her heart start thumping hard against her chest as she whispered, "You don't have to worry about me, Tse'yan."

"I will, Trudy. For you are precious to me." His giant hand cupped her cheek, and the tenderness in his eyes made her heart flop. "You have been precious for a long time."

"Why didn't you tell me?" she demanded hoarsely, the growing emotion she had locked inside her own heart hurt by his silence.

His hand fell from her cheek, and his yellow gaze moved up to stare over her head. "You are human. I did not think you would welcome such a thing from one of the Na'vi. One of the _savages_."

"You're a real idiot, you know that, Tse'yan?" Trudy growled, and then launched herself at him, hitting him square in the chest, just as she'd intended. Tse'yan fell back with a surprised cry, his arms automatically coming up to fold around her as he sprawled back on the ground, his head hitting the moss-covered branch beneath them with a distinct thump.

Trudy laughed at his stunned expression. Before he could gather a protest, she planted her hands on either side of his big head and soundly kissed him. His eyes widened. At first, he was too surprised to respond, but then his big hands were cupping around her face, his fingers tangling in her coiled braid as his mouth devoured hers. His lips were soft, and there didn't seem to be any cultural differences between how their species locked lips, for he was rather good at it. Not to mention, _enthusiastic_, for he kept her mouth on his when she tried to draw away, catching her bottom lip between his teeth and nibbling lightly. He was careful with his sharp canines, which had worried her a bit, but his tongue was talented, sweeping away everything but the pleasant heat blazing up between them.

Tse'yan slowly sat up, keeping his hands tangled in her hair as his thumbs made circling motions along her jaw as his mouth claimed hers again and again. Trudy's hands dropped to his wide shoulders, and she moaned into his mouth, her eyes closing as she sagged against him. The hard muscles beneath her restless fingers bunched, and they finally separated as he drew back. Their breath came ragged, warm on each other's lips and skin as he pressed his flat nose into the dip just above her nose and between her brows. Tse'yan sighed, his fingers flexing around the nape of her neck, pulling free the long coil of her braid by accident so that it slowly uncurled down her back.

"Trudy," he breathed against her, and she felt her heart do that same little flop at the way he said it. She hadn't thought she would ever hear someone say her name like that again, and she smiled, hugging him to her even though he was so big it was like he surrounded her whole world. God, that felt good.

He drew back, his yellow eyes intent as he stared at her as if he would memorize every line of her face. Reaching up with her right hand, Trudy brushed the errant braids back off of his brow, her thumb lightly trailing over the blue lights speckling across his skin. Although they glowed like tiny stars, they did not vary in temperature, holding the same warmth as the rest of his firmly muscled body. Sitting like this, in his lap, Tse'yan was still a good deal taller, but there was not the difference as when they stood side by side. She grinned, thinking this might work after all.

"What are you thinking?" he asked quietly, and she chuckled.

"How quick I can talk you into getting one of those hammocks made for two," she replied, loving the way his yellow eyes widened in astonishment as his ears pricked forward. Giving into her curiosity, Trudy outlined the outside of his right ear with a light fingertip. It flicked under the feather of her touch, and he stilled as she lightly rubbed the back of it, the velvety skin soft under her calloused fingers. His eyes closed and an odd sigh escaped him.

"What, no purring?" Trudy smirked as his eyes flew open. "Ah, well, it was worth a try. It used to work on my cat, Mr. Snuffles."

"Your what?" He knew damn well what a cat was, having seen them in Dr. Patel's video library. He looked offended.

Trudy laughed. God, she loved teasing him. "I'm just kidding. I never had a cat, and I never would have named him "Mr. Snuffles" if I did. Though maybe I should consider it for my ikran. What do you think about Fluffy? Or Mr. Bigglesworth? Or should I call her Miss Bigglesworth instead, since she's a girl?"

"You tease," he said, his grammar going all to hell.

"You're too serious," she retorted, playing with the beads at the end of his braids. "You need to laugh more, Na'vi."

"Tse'yan," he replied, mischief in his slanted eyes. "Not Na'vi. _Tse'yan_."

"Tse'yan," she said, her smile fading at the intense look in his eyes. She felt suddenly vulnerable, and that wasn't a feeling she had ever been easy with. "Ah, I'm not scaring you, am I? Coming on so strong?"

"Scaring me?" He laughed, hugging her so hard she was afraid he'd crack a rib. "You are my delight, little one, my Tiger warrior of the skies." His words were an odd mix of his native language and hers, as the Na'vi had no word for the ferocious feline. Trudy smiled, remembering how she had painted it on her Samson and how he had rescued her from the burning wreck. Though they weren't really her memories, but those Eywa had shared with her while she lay delirious under the All-Mother's healing web.

"Well, you certainly took you're time telling me," she scolded, trying to ignore the way her heart expanded at his words. Who would have thought that under all that stubborn, blue hide there rested the soul of a poet?

"I was uncertain if you could return my feelings. I would not burden you with them," he said. He could be so blunt and to the point. She liked it. Brady had been a lot like that, though Brady had always given her a bit more credit, treating her like a partner rather than some child to be indulged and protected. That was something they would _definitely_ have to work on.

"Oh, I return them, Na'vi. Though your high-handed ass doesn't always deserve it." She grinned to take the sting out of her words. "Although I'm not all that much a prize. If you've noticed, I can be a bit of a bitch at times."

"Yes," he agreed, and she socked him in the arm. It was like punching a brick wall. "Stubborn, too, and as prickly as a thistle bud and as hard-headed as a titanothere."

"Gee, thanks," she said dryly. "You really know how to compliment a gal, don't you?"

"I _see_ you, Trudy Chacon," he said, with that fervency the Na'vi always used when using the word in that way. "I see your heart, your spirit, your fire."

"I see you, too, Tse'yan," she answered quietly. She cupped his cheek, her eyes looking earnestly into his. "I _see_ your strength, your faith, your…kindness." It was not something she would have said of a warrior like him, but he _was_ kind. "I see your _heart_, and it makes me love you, you alien savage."

His hand cupped over hers on his cheek, and he closed his eyes. His fingers slowly tightened around her wrist, and he gently drew it down, taking her other hand and joining them both together so that he held her hands in his between them. He stared at them, hers so small in his but just as calloused and capable. "I would claim you, Trudy Chacon, in the way of my people. Claim you as my life-mate, if you would accept."

Well, it certainly wasn't your typical marriage proposal, down on one knee with a ring in hand, but what the hell. "Okay," she said, and grinned when his eyes shot up to hers, uncertain if she understood what that whole life-mate-claiming business meant. But Neytiri had been rather informative, when she'd asked her about the Tsahaylu ritual. Trudy knew exactly what "in the way of my people" meant. Her eyes twinkled, and she kissed him, just because she could tweak that stiff seriousness of his so easily. Man, he needed to lighten up.

Though she didn't mind that serious set of lips on him as Tse'yan returned her kiss. She took her time exploring them as he hugged her to him with a renewing fervency that took her breath away. She was so busy that she scarcely noticed when he stood up, only wrapping her legs tighter around his torso to hook her ankles behind him as his hands cupped her ass. His breath came short as he kept kissing her and trying to see which way to go. She laughed against his mouth when he stumbled, and started nibbling along his jaw. His throat worked convulsively, and he stumbled again, but this time to a stop.

She tilted her head back, looking at the shimmering curtain of the Tree of Souls hanging around them. It was his turn to press wet kisses down her throat, and she shivered under the heat he left in his wake. Tse'yan rested his head against the cleft of her breasts, which had to be an awkward position for him. But he held her there for a long time as she played with the dark, wiry hair on his head, twining it through her fingers in idle speculation. He was as immobile as a stone, so she took matters into her own hands by combing her fingers down to the thick braid that lay along his back. She pulled it up with a tug, and he finally raised his head, his golden eyes full of question.

Trudy smiled smugly. So he hadn't been expecting they could do this part of the ritual so sacred to the Na'vi. She wasn't totally certain why it was so important, though she could understand how twining minds could lead to some interesting sensations during sex. And Neytiri had told her that the whole combining-queues thing opened the Na'vi up to Eywa's blessing. Or censure - for there were cases when the All-Mother showed the couple how badly their life would turn out together in prophetic dreams. Trudy saw the wariness in Tse'yan's eyes, and wondered if he feared that the All-Mother would reject a Na'vi-Human alliance.

Trudy had no such fear. She knew Eywa would welcome their Mating, just as she _knew_ this was right. And she didn't waste time trying to reassure the big, blue lug, knowing he would get it soon enough. So she took the end of his braid, brushed it along the back of her neck, felt the tickling exploration of the tendrils sliding free of the end of his queue, and -

Well, let's just say that there are still some places left in the universe where miracles _do_ happen. And that when two lonely souls finally reached across the aching darkness, knitting two disparate worlds between them under the blessing of both, why the very heavens opened up in a love so profound it shown like a beacon across the vast emptiness of space.

A beacon burning bright.


End file.
